


Your Love Is Better Than Ice Cream

by Red_Rover



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Virtue Moir RPF
Genre: 3+1, Baby!VM, F/M, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Ice Cream, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tessa & Scott - The Show, Third Wheel Jean-Marc, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Rover/pseuds/Red_Rover
Summary: Three times Tessa and Scott went out for ice cream, plus one time they stayed in.
Relationships: Scott Moir & Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Comments: 24
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wasn’t doing anything more than a one-shot, but here I am again. Oy vey.
> 
> Endless thanks to LPM for the encouragement and editing to make this legible.

Scott sat on the bench outside the arena looking down at the hole he’d been kicking in the drying grass below, much like he did with his toe pick in the ice. He thought back on the day as he watched little black ants march with a purpose, carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades back to the nest. Today, at camp, his dumb brother Charlie had tricked him, and he was still a bit peeved. Charlie told him they were going to play hide-and-seek instead of going to ballet class - Scott would hide, and Charlie seek. After cramming himself behind the concession stand and remaining hidden for forty-five minutes, Scott was ready to declare victory. He strolled into the class, feeling very proud of himself, only to find Charlie had been there in the class the whole time! Big brothers were the worst.

The August sun beat down on his exposed neck and Scott pulled his baseball cap off and ran his hand over his buzzed, bleach blond hair, now grown out a bit, towards the end of the summer, and returned his hat to his head, backwards this time. He could feel the humidity starting to stick his T-shirt to his back. Scott willed Tessa to hurry up. What takes girls so long anyways, he wondered.

A pair of ballet flats and long, skinny legs appeared in his line of sight. “Hey,” the legs said.

Finally, she was here! Scott looked up, “Hey, Tess! Ready to go?”

Tessa had brought her bike to the summer skating camp today, at his mom’s suggestion, so they could go get a scoop of ice cream at Auntie May’s afterwards. Tessa had been gone to a ballet camp in Toronto most of last month and his mom told him a good partner would go for ice cream with her to hear about her time at camp. His dad had also given him a handful of coins, with a warning to not spend it at the arena vending machines.

They hopped on their bikes and took off, racing down the road towards main street, a trail of dust rising from the gravel in their wake.

Auntie May’s was a small, artisan ice cream and confectionery shop. It felt clean and welcoming, with worn, dark hardwood floors, whitewashed walls, and high ceilings. There was a treat to be found for everyone in the cozy shop. When Scott and Tessa walked in, they were greeted by the intoxicating smell of stroopwaffles being made fresh. They came off the iron, steaming hot and delicate, before being glued together with sticky caramel, and rolled up into ice cream cones.

One wall of the shop was a huge window, giving a view into the kitchen. Tessa and Scott stood, faces pressed against the glass, mesmerised by a lady in a chef jacket working. She was pouring liquid fudge from a copper kettle onto the counter to set between a square of metal bars for a while, before beginning to fold the sugar back onto itself to create the fudgey texture. She raised a hand in greeting, not knowing that these two little kids would become regulars for decades to come.

The back wall was decorated with tall, clear glass jars filled with colourful gumdrops, an endless selection of hard candies, carefully wrapped caramels, taffy, chocolate truffles, fudgey bites, and other delights. These lined the shelves behind the butcher block counter, waiting for the shop keeper to weigh them out in brown paper bags for eager customers.

Next to the candies sat a cooler with an astonishing variety of soda-pops - large enough to take boys and girls on a saccharine tour of the world without ever leaving the shop, all the while rotting their teeth and pickling guts guts all with a thirst-quenching fizz. There were easily a dozen languages represented, all the colours of the rainbow available, plus several more that do not appear in nature. An old-fashioned bottle opener hanging from a string rattled, pleasingly percussive, against the side of the cooler every time the door was opened or shut. 

Scott’s favourite was the spicy Jamaican ginger beer with its almost unbearable amount of bubbles. It’s what his brothers had stolen from his parents liquor cabinet last summer when they taught him to burp the ABC’s. He felt it was a pretty impressive trick to show girls. 

“Wanna see something cool?” Scott had asked Tessa - shortly after learning the trick - and while skating the perimeter of the rink hand in hand, proudly burped the ABC’s for her. 

She had merely raised an eyebrow, pursed her lips, looking slightly disgusted, and said, “Cool.”

But neither the array of candies nor collection of soda-pop were what they were there for. Tessa tugged on the back of his shirt to guide him to the freezer opposite the pop cooler. 

“Come on, Scott. I want to see what new flavours they have.”

Behind the glass, frosted from the humidity of the air freezing to it, was just what the doctor ordered for a hot summer day. Behold, fifteen regular and five rotating seasonal flavours of homemade ice cream, just dying to be scooped up into the fresh, crispy stroopwafel cones and enjoyed in the sun. Tessa loved ice cream, almost more than anything in the world, and upon seeing the day’s selection, began to rattle off all the flavours she had tried - which was most of them - and her recommendations to Scott. 

“Hi there, I’m May! What are your names?” the chef that had been making fudge had left the kitchen and joined them in the shop. She smiled warmly at them.  
The pair looked at each other, silently deciding who would speak. 

“I’m Tessa and this is Scott, and we’d like some ice cream please,” Tessa piped up, looking May right in the eye.

“I can arrange that for you. Hey, do you guys know why the ice cream cone is always invited to parties?” May made her way behind the freezer.

Tessa and Scott looked at each other, puzzled, “Why?” they responded in unison.

“Because it’s so cool!” May began to chuckle at her own joke, and Tessa and Scott couldn’t help but join in; the chef’s lighthearted laugh too contagious to avoid.  
After trying a sample spoonful of lemon curd blueberry ice cream, Scott decided on a scoop of that. The intense, deep flavour of the blueberries in combination with the bright and tangy bite of lemon left his mouth watering for more. He watched in delight as the delicate eggshell coloured ice cream with swirls of vibrant yellow and Maple Leafs jersey blue throughout was formed into perfect balls, placed in the fresh cone with a flourished flick of the wrist, wrapped in a napkin, and set in a stand atop the cooler while the next order was scooped.

Tessa tried a sample of hay and saskatoon berry ice cream, but after finding the grassy-dusty hay flavour too weird, asked for a scoop of her all-time favourite; malted chocolate honeycomb. The rich chocolate was enhanced by the deep, toasty malt flavour, along with a hint of floral sweetness from the bits of honeycomb dotted throughout - utterly irresistible. 

“What are you kids up to today, anyways?” May asked as she was scooping their chosen flavours.  
“We just finished skate camp, we ice dance together,” Scott answered.

May handed them their cones over the counter with a slight bow, her eyes twinkling. “Ice cream for the young lady and gentleman! Future Olympians, I’m sure!”  
Their sweet treats safely in hand, they went to the old-fashioned looking register to pay. At the mature and experienced age of almost-twelve, Scott felt it was his chivalrous responsibility to pay for Tessa’s ice cream. He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his shorts to retrieve the money his dad had given him, struggling to remove it once he’d closed his fist around the coins.When he finally managed to dump it all on the counter, May kindly counted the money and handed the change back to Scott, wishing them well as they headed out the door.

“Suicide Park?” Tessa asked, mouth full of the creamy treat, as they step out of Auntie May’s.

“Yup,” Scott smirked, thinking back to when his mom heard him call it ‘Suicide Park.’

His mom hated the name, “Danny! Charlie!” She had yelled across the kitchen at his older brothers, “What a terrible name for a park! Why would you tell Scotty that?” 

He still didn’t know why it was called Suicide Park; nobody did for sure, but all the kids called it by that name.

They turned down the alley next to the shop and walked the half a block to the park, unwilling to risk a bike ride with their precious cargo. The park was the oldest in Ilderton, and contained only a set of three swings, one straight slide, and a merry-go-round, all set in wood chips, like the bedding in his hamster’s cage, Scott thought. The structures were mostly made of wooden beams, held together by giant bolts, and worn smooth by decades of children running their hands across it. Most of the metal was rusty, but not rusted so badly that there were holes or too many sharp edges. 

Tessa and Scott sat side by side on the rusty merry-go-round, and began to slowly push it around. It made a startlingly loud screeeeech in one spot, and they both burst out in laughter.

“Remember that ballet camp I was at last month?” Tessa asked. He did remember, she was so excited to go to Toronto and learn more about dance. “I got accepted to go to the ballet school there, full time!” she said, beaming with the joy of her accomplishment.  
“Wow, Tess! That is so cool!” Scott was wide-eyed in amazement, happy for his friend. He knew that was a hard school to get into, and how much she wanted it. His face fell after thinking for a moment, brow furrowed in concern. “But what about skating?” he questioned, then tentatively added, “What about me?” 

Scott had only really taken to skating when Tessa came along. Before that, he skated with another girl, because his aunt made him, but she wasn’t very good. She could barely even go backwards.

Tessa took another bite of ice cream, nearing the bottom of the cone before she answered, and Scott’s heart sank, thinking his skating days were over. “I told them no, Scott,” she looked at him intently, “We’re partners, and partners stick together.”

Scott leapt up from the merry-go-round and let out a joyous whoop. He popped the last of his ice cream cone in his mouth and reached for Tessa, wrapping her in a bear-hug and twirling her around. He set her down, both feet securely on the earth, and they stood there grinning at each other, momentary angst forgotten, neither realizing the importance of the foundation they had started to lay for their friendship.

“I think we’ll be partners for a long time, Tess.”

Tessa nodded wisely, “Yeah, I think so, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summer treat.

After significant research and subsequently staring at a blank page with an incessantly blinking text cursor, I decided there was truly no way to improve upon what I was planning to write about for the second time Tessa and Scott go out for ice cream in this series.

The reality of what happened is already so… *gestures wildly with hands* whatever this is:

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x4x2cxt?playlist=x4km6l

\---

Please consider the following as you watch “The Ice Cream Break:”

-Tessa’s giggle and Scott’s throaty laugh when they joke about Jean-Marc’s cone size  
-Wacky editing showing a full ice cream cone, to mostly eaten, and back again  
-Tessa licking a spill off her wrist while she looks at Scott  
-The silent conversation, batting of eyelashes, and smirking going on between Tessa and Scott, whilst Jean-Marc seems to remain blissfully unaware  
-Scott sucking and nibbling on the edge of the cone before the ice cream toast  
-The thick and rich pralines and cream ice cream sticking to Scott’s deft tongue  
-Tessa slowly and delicately eating ice cream by the spoonful, savouring every creamy drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing your thoughts! Comment here or find me on twitter @redrover_15
> 
> There will be more to the next chapter, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you think? Comment here or find me on twitter @redrover_15
> 
> Title from Sarah McLachlan’s “Ice Cream”
> 
> On Tagging: Yes, technically, the ship tags are wrong. No, I’m not changing them. I’m still working on my Ted Talk, but in the interim, please refer to my pinned tweet for a statistical analysis of tagging in this fandom. Viva la Revolucion de FanFiction!


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